


Little Black Dress

by outsideth3box



Series: One Kink at a Time [1]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: 1000-3000 words, Clothing Kink, Crossdressing, Established Relationship, Genderfuck, Kink, M/M, Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-20
Updated: 2009-11-20
Packaged: 2017-10-03 10:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outsideth3box/pseuds/outsideth3box
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Rodney's turn to ask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Black Dress

**Author's Note:**

> Response to LiveJournal Community [](http:)comment_fic prompt: Little Black Dress

John had set the door to open for Rodney, and looked up from reading to see him square his broad shoulders as he entered. He had a ball of something black crumpled in his hands, but what it was, John couldn't see. He stopped about halfway across the room, fidgeting.

"Remember that conversation we had that time about kinks and you said you thought biting was really hot and we tried it and it was great?" Rodney's speech was rushed and somewhat suffering for it, and he wasn't looking John in the eye while he spoke.

John's pulse kicked up a notch.

"I remember we were pretty loaded during that conversation, "John replied. "We were on Sahren and they were celebrating... wheat or corn, or something. Something grainy that made amazingly good liquor."

"Yes, yes, scary orange-but-not-citrus liquor, I remember. But the biting thing, it worked out well. I mean, we still do it. Because it's good. I mean... it was a good idea. That you mentioned it. We don't really talk about. Things. But you did. And it was good, right? Turned out well?"

The more Rodney stammered and hesitated, the more anxious John became.

"Yes, it turned out well. Unless... have you changed your mind?"

"I... what?" Rodney blinked.

"The biting, you've decided you don't like it." Rodney started to speak but John sat up and swung his legs off the bed, interrupting. "No, it's okay, I don't want you to feel like you have to do something you don't enjoy."

John was disappointed. He'd thought they were both getting off. Something inside him spasmed at the thought that it was all one-sided the whole time. Because he wasn't that guy; not the sort who would want his partner to do something they didn't like just because he was having fun.

"Wait, no. Let me... let me... I have something. There's something I want to... just listen, okay?"

"Okay." John sat and watched while Rodney began to pace.

"First, I want to say that I'm happy you're a man. I like that about you. Really, I like all your man-parts and wouldn't change any of that." The hand Rodney waved in John's general direction still had something black balled up in it. Fabric? "It's not about that."

John wanted to make a smartass remark about how he was glad to hear it, as he wasn't making any changes in that area any time soon, but Rodney stopped just then, and looked at John with huge blue eyes that pretty much begged him not to, so he stayed quiet.

"It's just hot to me. Really, really hot, the way the usual lines blur and blend, boy and girl and maybe, yes, a bit of the lure of the forbidden, too. Culturally, anyway. The merging of the gender markers and stereotypes and the tang of the unexpected, it's all part of it, you see?"

John didn't see, but he was certain he was about to find out.

The ball of fabric unclumped, and fell in shuddering folds to swing gently from Rodney's hands.

It was a dress.

"Wait, what?" John's heart thudded hard in his chest and he stood from the bed, backing away from the dress with his hands out in a warding gesture. "Rodney you aren't... are you saying that you..." John's voice broke and he tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. "You want me...?"

And that was the clincher, wasn't it? Something Rodney was asking from him, the way John had asked for the biting experiment. And that had turned out great. But how could this possibly end well? It was a dress. A dress. John tried to calm his breathing.

"Rodney, I..."

Two big strides brought Rodney to John and he held the dress up, licking his lips and raking his eyes over the fabric, and the shape of John's body behind it.

"I'm pretty sure this was a big part of why I had such a crush on Carter for so long, you know? Female, short hair, uniform, which is more often male attire... that blurring of male and female lines just really does it for me."

It was probably the lightheadedness that made John say, "If you let Cadman hear you say something like that, she'll kick your ass."

Rodney laughed and seemed to take the little joke as encouragement, petting the fabric down against John's body, stretching it over John's contours, stroking it gently. "This microfiber is wonderful stuff, soft and smooth as silk, but stretchy and form fitting. It clings like you wouldn't believe."

"You say that like you've worn it yourself."

"Oh, I have."

John faltered at that, and stood blinking at the mental image. Whatever Rodney said then was lost in the roaring of blood rushing in John's ears.

"So, will you?"

When John looked up from the dress into Rodney's flushed face and earnest eyes, John's dry mouth and pounding heart suddenly seemed less immediate, less important than Rodney's shaking hands and terrified expression. He never wanted Rodney to be afraid of him, or to be afraid to ask him for anything. Suddenly, John had a very clear idea how much courage it had taken for Rodney to bring this sexy little black dress to him and ask him to wear it.

John lifted his hand and stroked the fabric over his chest, very surprised at the smooth, cool feel.

"This stuff is called what, again?" John asked in a shaking voice. Now he couldn't stop petting it, feeling the fabric, the creamy softness beyond anything he'd ever experienced.

"Nylon microfiber," Rodney said, looking hopeful.

John had never thought much about the word "slinky" before. He heard it all the time because Rodney had a habit of calling him "Colonel Slinky" when he was teasing John about his posture. John had always related the word to the toy, but now he was starting to wonder about that. This stuff was, without a doubt, slinky.

Rodney reached a trembling hand up to grasp John's. "John?"

Taking a deep, steadying breath, John looked into his lover's eyes and said, "Will you help me?"

The smile that spread across Rodney's face was blinding, beautiful, and filled John's chest with a happy ache. It was the right decision.

As the men walked together to the mirror in the bathroom, John nervously started taking off his clothes. A thought occurred to him and he stopped, "I can't shave anything," he said. "Carson, if nobody else..."

"Yeah, no, it's okay, really. Either way is fine with me, it's the mix, don't you see? In fact, keep your socks and boots in here so you can put them back on. God, that's going to be so hot." Rodney was still flushed, but it was clearly not nerves anymore.

"What about underwear?"

"No underwear. Panty lines are not my thing."

Once John was undressed, Rodney held the dress up, open, in front of him and John raised his arms obediently. The silky fabric slipped over his head and skin and clung like velvet.

The dress fell into place and John froze, stunned that he'd done it, that he was wearing a dress. Rodney settled and smoothed and fussed over the thigh length hem. Then John bent to replace his socks and boots at Rodney's direction, leaving the boots unlaced as usual. When he stood up again, heart thumping, Rodney gasped, eyes wide, and motioned for John to turn and see for himself.

In the mirror stood a surprising figure. John had always been lean, but the sleek black fabric gave him a slender look that was more feminine than anything he'd ever seen in himself before. The clunky combat boots didn't even completely balance out the dress, they just looked punkish. The tank-style top let a bit of his chest hair show and that added some masculinity back into the mix, as well as the body hair on his muscular arms, his five o'clock shadow, his legs. For no reason John could fathom, he suddenly wondered what he would look like in black lipstick and eyeliner.

Rodney stood behind him, chin resting on his shoulder, watching John's reaction. Stroking and petting, Rodney's hands moved constantly, following the lines of John's sleek shape. Almost compulsively, John found his own hands tracing the contours of his hips, his ribs, and his stomach, luxuriating in the smooth, cool sensation of the garment, slick against his skin.

Just as John started to approach the idea that this was maybe not so bad, Rodney reached an arm across him and drew his nails over John's nipple through the dress. The sensation zigzagged via the hairs on his neck, straight to his cock, which began to take notice of the goings on in a whole new way.

"Oh, John, look," Rodney breathed in his ear, and his hand slithered down John's body to cup the growing bulge. Kneading gently, Rodney whispered a breathy moan past John's cheek and John found himself helplessly pressing himself into Rodney's hand, the feel of the silken fabric against such tender skin intensely erotic, drawing pleasure through him in deep, hot breaths.

Rodney stepped from behind him and dropped to his knees, hands raised to John's hips as if in supplication, and John's hands went automatically to clutch Rodney's strong shoulders. Immediately, Rodney pressed his face to John's groin, rubbing his cheeks, face and lips across John's hardening cock and breathing in deeply the scent of his lover. He slid one hand up to John's waist and with the other gripped John's veiled penis and turned slightly to look into the mirror, displaying his prize with a lustful grin.

"Look at you, so damn beautiful!" Rodney began to stroke firmly, flowing over the fabric on some strokes, moving the cloth along with his hand on others. John felt the slide of the dress on his cock rub a thrill of desire into his body.

Jesus, he was standing here in a dress. How could that be hot? But the pleasure was real and the dress was smooth and cool and hot; beyond hot, it was scorching, watching Rodney's intense concentration and feeling both of his hands in relentless motion over the incredibly soft material, feeling his heated breaths puffing through it and looking down farther and seeing that, yes, Rodney was hard, too.

John moaned softly, rocking into Rodney's fist, watching the shape of his cock appear and disappear through his hand, and just when he thought he was as surprised as he could be by all of this, Rodney leaned forward and took John's cloth-covered penis into his mouth, tightening his lips into a circle of bright rapture.

Rodney's other hand continued to stroke and pet John's body, slipping along the smooth surface of his ribs, waist and hips, scraping with his nails over John's belly and chest. Without thinking, John brought his own hands up to join in, scratching his nipples through the dress, adding spicy zings of electricity to the mix.

"Oh, god, Rodney," he murmured. "Just don't stop. Feels so good."

At John's words, Rodney gave a loud moan that could have been oh hell no, or could have been oh hell yes, because that was when he dropped his outstretched arm to his own waist and began wrestling with his belt, opening his pants to get at his own hard cock.

The muffled groan of Rodney's own pleasure when he started jacking himself in time with the motion of his mouth on John blasted a current straight up John's spine. The intensity of Rodney's need gave John a near-orgasmic jolt that almost put him over the edge.

John stared at the mirror, Rodney's lips gliding up and down his cock, Rodney's tongue rubbing the wet fabric across the head. With one hand, Rodney pumped himself rhythmically, hips thrusting slightly through the circle of his fingers. The other hand feathered its way up under John's skirt and drew lines of heat across his ass and into the crease, finger pressing lightly against his hole. The finger disappeared for a moment and reappeared at Rodney's mouth, entered, then popped back out, slick and shiny, and dipped back under the dress again.

Slippery now, the pressure at his entrance increased until John felt it slide inside, opening him with a gorgeous friction that forced a shout out of him. He could see his own body shudder and his back start to arch. Then the finger inside him pressed just the right spot and he came, skirt riding up slightly, hands clenched on his chest, pulsing through the black sheath on his cock into Rodney's mouth.

As soon as John straightened up, Rodney sat back on his heels and turned to stare into the mirror at John, disheveled and blissed out, and whipped his hand on his cock in a blur of obvious pleasure until, with a deep groan, he came in long white stripes across the glass.

While both men spent the next couple of minutes catching their breath, John wet a washcloth and handed it to Rodney, who took it without looking up and became very intent upon cleaning the mirror to within an inch of its life.

John tried to think what to say, how to tell Rodney that, hey, it wasn't bad, and if it was something Rodney liked, he was okay with that. But he could see that Rodney was having second thoughts, his face very flushed, and in just a minute was going to-

"So. Well, that was, umm." Rodney stood, tossing the washcloth in the sink without looking at John and slipped around behind him, gripping the hem of the dress and raising it up in the opposite motion he'd used to settle it on John's body initially. John pivoted in Rodney's arms and leaned against his chest, wrapping his own arms around his partner, and looked into his eyes.

Rodney cut him off before he said a word. "That was very, umm, kind? Of you, to do that. For me. Yes. You were extremely hot, of course, you are always extremely hot and nothing is ever going to impact that one micron, but you didn't have to do that. But you did and I just, well. Appreciate. Of course that doesn't mean you ever want to do it again and naturally you don't have to-"

And John leaned in and kissed him.

"Any time, Rodney."

"You don't... I mean... What?" Rodney was clearly stunned.

"Well, I can't say I want to wear dresses to work now or anything. But you were right, it was kinda hot, and you were so into it and that was really hot. If you want to do this sometimes, I'm good."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. But for now, can I take off the dress?" John grinned, giving Rodney a wink and a little shimmy of his hips.

"Hmm," Rodney said. "Just one second." Then he stepped in close and reached around and clamped his hands onto John's ass, one cheek in each hand, and squeezed, emitting a deep, happy groan as he did.

"Okay. Now you can take off the dress."


End file.
